


Trial By Fire

by AllyUnabridged



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyUnabridged/pseuds/AllyUnabridged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>B’Elanna’s back from the Borg, but a lot of things have changed.  Will she be able to deal with them all?  How will her crewmates respond to her now, especially the man she depends on the most?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story released from the dark recesses of my computer's archive folders. The first four chapters were written between the airing of Unimatrix Zero Part 1 and Unimatrix Zero Part 2 and have been revamped a bit for this posting. All following chapters have been written within the last few months. 
> 
> Disclaimer: They’re owned by Paramount/Viacom. The story’s owned by me. I’m not going to try to make any money off of it, okay? Does everyone understand that? Good.

B'Elanna Torres sat on the edge of her bed and sighed, rolling her head in a slow circle to ease the tension in her neck. It had been a long day. Too long.

 <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There had been looks and whispers. She had expected both, had tried to prepare herself to face them. She'd told herself that it wouldn't be easy, but never would she have anticipated the rumors that had floated through Engineering on her first day back--rumors which held more than a grain of truth.

_"She doesn't seem the same somehow. She's just different."_

_"I can't believe that they've let her come back without--"_

_"What did you expect? I heard that they can't be removed."_

_"At least you can't see them."_

_"Most of them. Look at her neck."_

_"I can imagine what they look like, though, all gray and shiny....it's frightening. Don’t we have enough Borg on this ship already?"_

_"Shhh.....she's coming over here!"_

  <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It had been like that all day. She wondered if it had been wishful thinking that had led her to believe that seeing her in the Mess Hall and walking through _Voyager_ 's corridors every day would make them see that she hadn't changed. Not on the inside, anyway. She was still B'Elanna Torres, still _Voyager_ 's Chief Engineer. She had, foolishly perhaps, hoped that at least her staff would be able to see that.

It wasn't who she was that disturbed them. It was what she had been. What she still was, in part.

B'Elanna reached up and loosened the fastenings on her jacket, letting it slip down her shoulders. She glanced down at the object of the rumors, the whispers. It gleamed coldly on her arm, a constant reminder of what she had sacrificed. For them.

The Doctor had been apologetic. There had been problems removing some of the Borg attachments due to her unique blending of Human and Klingon physiology. Some of the internal ones would never be removed, and as for the external ones...her shoulder sported a permanent metal cap with tendrils curling down her arm to her elbow and entering her skin to meld with the bone beneath. And her spine...two cords had wrapped themselves around her spine, inside and out, filaments connecting and bonding with her spinal cord. There was nothing the Doctor could do, he told her regretfully.

She had tried to come to terms with it. It just seemed so unreal at times. Sometimes she would brush a hand against cool metal and, like reliving a nightmare, she would realize yet again that she would have these for the rest of her life. The thought chilled her mind as the metal did her fingers.

She had been given some unexpected help through this time of adjustment. The Captain and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok had, like herself, been ordered to take two weeks of convalescent leave. They had become a comfortable trio, often content to simply sit in silence in one another's quarters. Sometimes they would talk, but not of their time in the Collective. No, everything that could have been said had already been discussed, but not verbally. They had been linked, mind to mind, through the Collective, even though their personalities remained distinct and individual. That telepathic bond had enabled them to communicate things that would never, that could never, have been said aloud.

B'Elanna had, for instance, finally admitted her resentment of the Captain and her behavior over the last couple of years. The way that she had ignored her Chief Engineer's capabilities and importance in the command structure. The way she hadn't listened, resigning herself, instead, to take advice from Seven of Nine. The way she had stopped trying to take into account the opinions of her crew when making a decision. The way she had let her own selfish wants guide the fates of all of them.

Janeway had been stunned and shamed. She had known, deep down, that what she was doing was wrong. But distancing herself had been easier, and she had been so tired of forcing herself to be everyone's mentor, everyone's example and role model. She had tried to convince herself that the crew would do just fine without her being too involved. The Captain had accepted her guilt, and B'Elanna believed that she would do what she could to repair the damage she had caused.

B'Elanna's relationship with Tuvok, too, had undergone a strange metamorphosis. No longer was he the un-looked for counselor, the mentor she grudgingly had to acknowledge. Instead, she recognized in him a fount of strength and knowledge that she had been missing since she and Chakotay had grown further apart. She finally understood that Tuvok, instead of trying to change who she was, was trying to help her become who she wanted to be.

B'Elanna now considered that all of that would seem like success to most people. But there were so many things that had gone wrong since she had come back to _Voyager_ two weeks ago. The way her crewmates treated her was only the beginning, a sign of a deeper problem that might not even have grown so large, if it hadn't been for . . .

Tom. He had haunted her on that ship, the look in his eyes when he had said goodbye to her.  As if he had feared that she would never come home. Also, as if he hoped for it.

When she had been helped into to Sickbay, he was the first thing she saw. She hadn't wanted to smile then; it didn't feel right. So they had just stared at each other before the Doctor had gently pressed her back onto the biobed and the hypospray gave her the gift of blessed oblivion.

There had been distance in his eyes. Those cool blue depths had seemed unfamiliar to her. She hadn't understood it then. She didn't now. All she knew was that from that moment on Tom Paris had ignored her as much as he was able. He left any room she had entered, walked away from every conversation she tried to start. After a few such incidents B'Elanna stopped trying.

Was she really so different? It was a question she had asked herself a hundred times over since seeing that look in his eyes. Was she someone else now?

Oh, maybe if you were looking at her. There were some changes. Her hair was longer, falling inches past her shoulders. She had asked the Doctor to regrow it that way, and it waved down her back unless she pulled it back as she had to while she was on duty. Her skin was still paler than she was used to seeing it, but the Doctor had assured her that the artificial pigments would fade very soon. She felt more graceful when she walked, almost as if she was gliding, and she supposed she had the spinal attachment to thank for that. 

But on the inside...well, so what if she hadn't chewed Carey's head off today for not making sure that the warp core diagnostics were performed every other day instead of once a week? What did it matter if she had thrown only one faultily-written report at a lazy ensign instead of her usual half-dozen? The rest hadn't been so bad.

Even if she did have a better reign over her temper now, what did it matter to them? They were only benefiting from it, weren't they? And so was she. She had actually walked out of Engineering without a headache for the first time in years. She was sure it was because she had kept her cool more than was her wont.

Couldn't they see how terrific all of this was, for her and for them? Couldn't they see that, even if she had changed, it was for the better?

Maybe they just didn't understand. They didn't know, couldn't possibly begin to comprehend what had changed her. Sometimes she thought, she wished, that it had only been a dream. Especially when she lay awake at night, the cries echoing in her mind.

Each assimilated person, each scream of a soul being overpowered by an entity so powerful that it boggled the imagination…those cries had ripped at her heart, had imprinted in her mind in the few minutes between the neural suppressant wearing off and her rescue. And then there was the Voice that called constantly, cajoling her to give up her fight, her struggle to stay free. It had been a seductive Voice, and had been all the more horrible because she recognized it. To her, the Voice sounded like Tom's.

Perhaps she had allowed him to avoid her so much because she didn't want to hear him, didn't want to be reminded of those terrible few weeks. Each time she heard him speaking, even from a distance, she thought about those she had heard assimilated in such a short time, as if the Queen was trying to replace the thousands she lost in an instant. 

"You're thinking about it now," she muttered to herself. "This is ridiculous! You're just scared! You don't want to know what he thinks of you. You don't want to hear him say how disgusted he is by what you've become. And he knows it all, Torres. He was there in Sickbay, and he helped the Doctor remove every one of those damned little implants. He _knows_."

Yes, it was fear that kept her from reaching out to him more than she had. Fear and shame. She shouldn't let those two irrational emotions stand between her and the man she loved. That’s what Tuvok would say, B’Elanna was sure.

She did love him. Didn't she?

How could she be sure anymore? They had hardly ever had the time to talk even before B'Elanna had decided to go with Janeway. They had been drifting apart, and while it had hurt--it still hurt--B'Elanna hadn't known what to do then any more than she knew what to do now.

"Just take it day by day, Torres," she told herself, repeating the words she had never forgotten from a teacher who had cared more than she had thought he had.

That's what she had to do. Take it day by day. In time they would come to accept her as she was now. They had to. There was no one else on the ship with her expertise, and Janeway would never hear of Carey replacing her for such a trivial reason. They would get used to it. And so would she.

B'Elanna stood up slowly and headed for the sonic shower. All she wanted was to get clean and try to sleep dreamlessly, if that was possible. She was sure she dreamed about him while she slept, but she couldn't remember when she woke. She did remember hearing his voice, though, as she had heard it while she was drone, calling to her. 


	2. Chapter 2

B'Elanna rolled over as the alarm announced, "Wake up, B'Elanna."

Damn it, why had she reprogrammed that stupid alarm? Tom had laughed at her the first time he heard it...Where was he, anyway?

B'Elanna's sleep-fogged brain cleared slowly, and with the lucidity came pain. Pain that she still woke up thinking of him. Her arm was stretched out across the bed, as if she had been seeking his familiar presence in her sleep. 

She dragged herself out of bed, silently cursing whoever had come up with the idea of "morning." It was a terrible thing, when you had to get out of a nice warm bed and face reality. These days, she'd rather be dreaming than awake despite the nightmares that often disturbed her sleep.

After a quick sonic shower she put on a fresh uniform and arranged her hair for the day. Captain Janeway had spent several hours with her a few days before, trying hairstyles. B'Elanna would never have thought that spending time with the captain would be at all pleasurable, at least not lately, but they had actually had fun. The only time that the levity had faded was when Janeway teased her about Tom. Then B'Elanna had been forced to admit out loud what she had thought everyone on the ship knew: Tom couldn't even look at her anymore.

Pulling away from these dangerously self-pitying thoughts, B'Elanna checked to make sure that no wisps of hair had escaped from the intricate braid at the nape of her neck. Then, avoiding looking her reflection in the eye, she turned and exited her quarters. She had to be at a briefing, her first since the mission, in three minutes. 

She stood impatiently in front of the turbolift, trying to will it with her slight glare to open. When the doors finally did slide apart, B'Elanna drew in a sharp breath.

No. She couldn't get on it, not while he was standing there, looking first shocked and then remote. But her pride wouldn't let her back down, not from a challenge like this.

B'Elanna entered the turbolift, making a deliberate effort not to look at him. Instead, she studied the padd she had grabbed on her way out the door, rereading Carey's latest report. It was that or scream, and she wouldn't scream. Not in front of him, anyway. She would show him that if he could live without her, then she could live without him.

 _But you can't_ , a small voice in her mind whispered.

 _Shut up_ , she told it firmly.

The 'lift stopped and the doors opened. B'Elanna hurried out first, careful not to let any emotion show on her face. It wouldn't do to let the entire bridge know how much being near Tom upset her.

The Captain, Commander Chakotay, and Tuvok were already seated in the briefing room. B'Elanna took the seat next to Tuvok, smothering the hurt she felt when Tom took the seat opposite and one down. Janeway frowned at both of them but refrained from saying anything. B'Elanna was grateful to her for that.

Chakotay, his glance just as shrewd as the Captain's, said with apparent innocence, "How did you enjoy your first day back in Engineering, B'Elanna?"

She really didn't feel like talking about it, so she just shrugged and said, "It was all right." Then she turned her head just enough to look past him and to the right, out at the stars. She refused to look at any of them, not wanting to see the concern on Chakotay's or the Captain's faces, or the flicker of puzzlement she knew would be in Tuvok's eyes. 

B'Elanna barely noticed the arrival of the others. She kept her eyes glued to her padd, wondering why the Captain hadn't just asked Carey to come instead of her. She had heard that he had taken her place temporarily, and that Chakotay had been very pleased with the progress he had made in Engineering during her convalescence.

When Janeway stood up to begin her first official briefing since her return, B’Elanna finally glanced around at the others. Harry sat across from her, a pained expression on his face as he looked straight at her. She eyed him coldly for a moment or two. He had taken sides, or so it seemed. Neelix sat on the other side of Tom, whom she didn't let her gaze linger on, and he smiled slightly at her, an encouraging smile. B'Elanna's lips twitched. She wanted to smile back, but she forced herself not to. The Doctor sat beside her, and Seven occupied the seat on his other side.

Seven...how could Tom have been so nice to her all of those years if he had such aversion to former Borg? Or was it just that he couldn't handle the fact that his girlfriend....

"B'Elanna?" Janeway's tone, concerned and a bit irritated at once, told her that it was not the first time the Captain had tried to gain her attention. 

"Yes, Captain?" B'Elanna didn't have to pretend the apathy she heard in her tone. 

"B'Elanna, could you please give us the Engineering report?" The Captain did not sound as irritated as before.

"I don't know why I should. Carey seems to have done just fine without me," B'Elanna muttered under her breath as she stood.

"Lieutenant?"

"I'm sorry, Captain. I was just thinking of something else. The warp coils need replacing. There's absolutely no choice this time. The StructuralIntegrity Field generators were badly damaged during the last altercation with the Borg, but most of them have been repaired, although a few needed to be replaced. Most major systems are still being evaluated. The good news, the only good news as far as I can see, is that we've had some breakthroughs on the MIDAS project, and thanks to the last transmission will most likely be able to reduce the cycle to twenty days instead of thirty-two," B'Elanna finished the report dully.

There was silence for a few moments. B'Elanna ignored it and the other reports given during the rest of the meeting. What did they matter now, anyway? 

"I believe that's everything. You are dismissed. Oh, B'Elanna, could I have a word with you?"

B'Elanna remained seated. It was too much effort to look at Janeway, so she stared at the tabletop.

"B'Elanna, would you snap out of it?" The irritation was back in the Captain's voice.

B'Elanna did look up then. A bitter smile twisted her lips. "What's the use anymore? I'm not needed or wanted on _Voyager_ , Captain. No one on my staff will say more than ten words to me at a time. For that matter, no one on this damn ship besides you, Tuvok and the Doctor has been able to treat me like they used to from the moment I came back," she said sharply.

 Janeway, whose implants had all been removed, ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "B’Elanna, it's going to be tough for everyone to get used to what happened and the results.  But they will. This crew has always been close, and I know that soon they'll see that you're the same person you were when you left," she said, trying to be reassuring.

B'Elanna stood up and began to pace. "I'm not, though! I didn't yell at more than a few people yesterday, I only really lost my temper once, and I don't have as much impatience with my staff as I did before. And I hate it! I don't want to be different!"

"It's really not that bad, is it?" Janeway asked quietly. She watched her Chief Engineer with wise eyes, letting her walk off some of the frustration.

"Well, no, I actually like being more in control, but not if it makes people give me more frightened looks than when I was shouting constantly and throwing things around!" B'Elanna admitted reluctantly.

"Like I said, they'll get used to it. So will you, B'Elanna. Everyone, including you, Tuvok, and me, needs time to adapt. We all will, eventually," the Captain said, laying a comforting hand on B'Elanna's shoulder as she joined her to look out at the stars.

"Some things will never be the same," B'Elanna said softly, thinking about Tom.

"No, they won't. They might be better, though," Janeway told her.

For the first time since coming home to _Voyager_ , B'Elanna began to believe that even thought a large part of her ached for what she had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm interested to see what people think about my interpretation of post-Borg Torres, Janeway, and Tuvok. Do you love them? Hate them? Are they at least a little believable?


	3. Chapter 3

B'Elanna buried herself in her work over the next few days, as she always did when she was troubled.  The latest breakthroughs in the MIDAS project intrigued her, and so she set out to see how she could improve them. Typically, she lost track of time. She was jolted back to the mundane world by Carey, who cleared his throat behind her. 

When B'Elanna glared back at him he said, "Chief, you've been working for...well, I got off my last shift two rotations ago, and you were here. From what I've been able to tell you haven't even stopped to eat yet. You shouldn't do this to yourself, not after...after what' you've been through."  He stammered out that last bit, unable to meet her eyes.

B'Elanna growled low in her throat. "Dammit, Carey, why can't you just say it?  Can't any of you just bring it up once to my face instead of talking behind my back?" she demanded.

Carey's eyes flew to hers, and he flushed. "Sorry, Chief.  I just…I guess I just didn't want to remind you of it because I thought it might be too hard for you to think about…being a Borg."

She sighed, frustrated. "Would you please tell me, Lieutenant, why everyone on this ship seems to think that I'm someone else just because I was assimilated? I haven't really taken the time to watch any of you around Janeway or Tuvok, but it seems like I'm the only one of the three of us who's being targeted by this gossip," she said.

Carey was silent for a moment. Then he sighed also and said, "Sir, I guess it's just because we can look at the Captain and Commander Tuvok and…and there's no difference that's really visible.  But you...you've changed the way you look and even the way you act.  On a ship like this, sudden changes like that are a little hard to accept. The reasons for that change aren't really the important thing, Chief."

B'Elanna considered this. It was possible that Carey wasn't just saying all that to make her feel better.  She could almost let herself hope that it was the truth. Almost, but not quite.

"That works for everyone except--" she stopped, not really wanting to discuss this much of her private life with  her second in command.

Carey, seeming to sense her sudden discomfort with the subject, quickly offered, "Chief, I really do think that you should go get something to eat now. I can handle things here for a while. Maybe you could even get some sleep.

B'Elanna returned his tentative smile.  "All right.  Just don't disturb anything on my desk, okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir."

She patted his shoulder as she passed him. After their short conversation it was easier to ignore the glances that she received as she left Engineering.

B'Elanna entered the Mess Hall feeling more than a little defiant. The stares and whispers started even as she walked over to the counter and peered around for Neelix. He popped up out of the back in his usual fashion, and for what must have been the millionth time she wondered if he had some kind of telepathy.

"Hello, B'Elanna!" He was always cheerful, but she wondered if he wasn't overdoing it a bit now.

"Hi, Neelix. What have you got today?" she asked, sniffing at the aroma that wafted forward from the kitchen area. Well, "aroma" was a nice way of putting it.

"I've got some grish- _ta_   soup and yemo casserole. If you're really hungry, I'll add some of this delicious _vit-vi_ in saqi sauce." He filled her plate with all of this, and she had to accept it and the cup of some amber liquid because her replicator rations were low after the chocolate binge she had indulged herself in the week before.

"Thanks, Neelix. It looks--interesting."

"That's what everyone has said today! I'm so glad that you all enjoy my cooking," he told her with a smile.

B'Elanna could only smile weakly back and head for the nearest empty table. She sat down, feeling uncomfortable in the slightly crowded Mess Hall, as she usually did lately. She hadn't eaten with anyone but the Captain and Tuvok since her return, and she wasn't sure if she liked it that way or not. She pulled a padd out of her pocket and tapped the screen absently as she shoveled in her food without thinking about or looking at it.

"B'Elanna? Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harry's voice pulled her away from the latest book in her favorite Klingon romance series, _Women Warriors Take Revenge_. She looked up, aware of the chill that entered her eyes and seemed to paralyze her.

"I don't really care," she said coolly.

Harry grimaced as he put his tray down and took the seat opposite her. He just sat there for a moment or so, and then he finally looked up at her and said, "I know that we haven't talked a lot since you got back--"

"We've exchanged maybe three words to each other, Harry. That includes 'Hi.’ In fact, that may be the only thing we’ve said to each other in two weeks,'" B'Elanna told him harshly.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. I just didn't know what to say to you after all that you went through," he said quickly, trying to finish the explanation before she could interrupt.

B'Elanna was quiet for a minute, and then she told him intensely, "I needed a friend, Harry. I needed someone who didn't go through 'all that I went through' to help me adjust, to keep me balanced. And there was no one I left behind when I went on that damned mission, not even you, who was willing to do that for me. Do you realize how much that hurts?" She tried not to raise her voice, but she wasn't very successful.  Her pain and anger were too strong.

She stood up, her meal untouched, picked up her tray and cup and was about to leave. His hand on her wrist stopped her. 

"I'm sorry, B'Elanna. I know I should have been there for you, and I wasn't. I'd like you to forgive me, and for us to still be friends," he said sincerely, looking directly into her eyes for the first time.

She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the voice that told her to forgive him. It wasn't that easy.  "Maybe we can be friends again, Harry. Maybe even someday soon. But not today."

She left the Mess Hall with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Would she always react like this? Would the hurting never go away?

A voice whispered in her mind, her voice. _It won't leave you until you face your fear and defeat it._

She wasn't sure if she was strong enough for that yet. She hoped that one day she would be. Meanwhile, her first priority needed to be taking care of herself. She turned and marched down the hall, new purpose in her step.

B’Elanna woke up groggily hours later. This had been her first chance to sleep in--days? She hadn't allowed herself the luxury of a really good deep sleep in a long time, either, but before she went to bed she had taken a hypospray the Doctor had given her when she was discharged from Sickbay in case she needed help sleeping. The medicine eased her way into unconsciousness and provided something of a guard against the dreams that wanted to force their way into her slumbering mind. She wouldn't have indulged in such a long rest this time except that she'd received orders to from Chakotay switching her next shift up so that she had three free shifts. She detected Carey's hand in that.

B'Elanna stretched lazily then got up and showered. The sonic pulses had never felt so good. Still not more than half-awake, she checked with the computer to see what time it was. She had two hours until her shift began, so she only put on her pants and undershirt, ignoring the jacket that would go over it for the time being.

Her stomach chose the moment she sat down to put her hair up to inform her that it didn't take kindly to missed meals, and she'd skipped more several. After checking her replicator ration balance, B'Elanna ordered a plate of steaming hot banana pancakes and a tall glass of milk. She tried to enjoy the food, really she did. Somehow, though, it just didn't taste like she thought it should.

B'Elanna had finished eating and was finally ready to fix her hair when the door chimed. She frowned. No one had come on an impromptu visit since she got back. Her heart, weak thing that it was, offered up the small hope that it was Tom out there. She squashed that down, knowing that thoughts like that were useless and would just make her even unhappier than she already was.

After short hesitation she called out, "Enter!"

The door opened. At first she thought that maybe the chime had been malfunctioning because no one stepped in. Then a familiar figure slowly entered. Blue eyes gazed around the room, looking for her.

"Tom!" she gasped out. Her mind and body felt numb. 


	4. Chapter 4

B'Elanna regained her composure quickly. "I'm surprised to see you here," she said, hoping that the deliberate chill she put in her voice would disguise the way she was quaking on the inside. 

There was no expression on Tom's face, although B'Elanna thought she saw a flicker of--something--in his eyes. She told herself it was just her imagination.

"Can we talk, B'Elanna?" Tom asked quietly.

B'Elanna let her chin rise, let some of the anger she felt towards him show in the set of her mouth and the stillness of her body. "I didn't realize that we had anything to talk about," she said bitingly.

His gaze dropped to the floor.  "I think we do."

"I might have thought that, too, a week or so ago.  But you didn't then, and I don't now," she told him coldly.  Tom looked up, the shock obvious in his eyes and the set of his mouth. She turned slightly away from him. "Please leave."

"That's not true, B'Elanna," he said, reaching out towards her. His tone pleaded with her.

She didn't believe him. She shook her head.  "Leave, Tom. Now."

"No." His voice was firm, and it made her even angrier at him.

"If you don't leave, then I'll call security and have you dragged out of here!" she yelled, turning wildly to face him. He looked into her eyes, and in those blue depths she saw something she hadn't expected--vulnerability.

"No, B'Elanna. We really do have to talk this out. I want you to listen to what I have to say.  That's all. Then, if you want me to leave, I will. If you want me to stay so we can discuss what's happened to us, then I will. Just, please, hear me out," he said with such passion that she had to give in.

B'Elanna walked around him and sat on the couch. She drew her knees up to her chest, a gesture which both of them knew was protective.  "Alright. Sit down, and I'll listen," she said reluctantly.

Her dark eyes followed him as he took a seat on the couch near, but not too near, her. He made no move to touch her. He simply looked at her, looked into her eyes again and began.

"When you left on that away mission I was so scared, B'Elanna. The thought that I might lose you forever frightened me beyond anything I had ever known before. Over the days that you were gone I sort of--bottled it up inside. I couldn't stand the pain I was feeling. I think you know what I'm talking about." His eyes pleaded with her to answer that she did.  All she could do was nod silently, and so he continued. "I thought when we recovered you that everything would return to the way it had been before, but when I saw you on that biobed...you looked so cold, so distant from anything I had ever associated with who you were. I began to think that maybe you would be different on the inside as well, that you would turn out to be like Seven, a woman with no passion, no heart, just a machine trying to relearn what it is to be an individual person.”

He took a deep breath. “I know I shouldn't have worried about that, that the virus was supposed to keep you from being fully assimilated, but I wondered, and worried, and finally convinced myself that I was right. After all, you didn't turn to me when you woke up, and you ignored me after that. I decided to do the same, hoping that I could just turn my feelings for you off the way I would turn off the lights in my quarters. But it hasn't worked out that way. I've spent night after night torturing myself with thoughts of what it was like before you were assimilated, the way we were always right together, no matter what. I finally realized that it was my fear, not you, that was keeping me away from you. That was a week ago. I was so ashamed of myself.  I treated you terribly, and I didn't know what I could do to make it up to you. So I tried to remain hidden, but that just didn't work. Then today, when I saw you, the way you acted at the briefing…I started to worry that I was doing the worst possible thing for you, for us. That's when I knew I had to come see you. I want to try to work things out."

She was quiet for a minute after he finished. The sincerity in his voice, the undisguised emotions which flickered across his face told her that it was all true. And yet...B'Elanna stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the couch. She stopped in front of Tom, who stood up so that only inches separated them.

"I understand that you were scared, before I left and after I came home. So was I. But I knew that what I did was necessary. Our galaxy will never have peace if the Borg are not destroyed, and the best way to do that was from the inside. What I did, I did for Voyager, for us, for peace and for the chance to do something I could be proud of myself for. And when I came back, I needed someone to be waiting to help me with the pain and the wounds I had received--not wounds of the body, but of the mind. I heard that Voice every single second, calling to me. You don't know what frightening is until you hear that.  It called to me, tempting me to join it--and it was tempting! But I knew I had to make it back, somehow, because you were here, waiting for me. When you turned away from me the moment I was beamed aboard...I was crushed. You gave me honesty, and now I'm giving it back to you. If you want me to forgive you, Tom Paris, you're going to have to work for it!" B'Elanna said with some of her old spirit. Her voice was strong even though she felt weak inside, weak with relief that he still loved her, still wanted her. She wouldn't back down, though. He would make up for the weeks of neglect if he wanted her back!

Tom took her hand almost gingerly. He didn't smile, but the relief in his eyes spread so that his whole face glowed with it. "I do want you to forgive me, B'Elanna. And I will work for it. You're worth it. You're more than worth it." 

As he raised her fingers to his lips to press a warm, soft kiss to them, B'Elanna felt a single tear roll down her cheek. For the first time, she really did believe that it was all going to work out in the end. Suddenly, she couldn't stand even the small distance between them. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tom's arms came up to hold her tightly. After a few minutes of simply standing there holding one another, B'Elanna drew back so that she could look into Tom's eyes.

"It may take a while for me to forgive you, but I never stopped loving you," she whispered.

"I love you, too. Always," Tom replied.

 B'Elanna laid her head on his shoulder and smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

"As you can see, I've improved the design on this new model. I incorporated some of Starfleet's more traditional design elements with innovations which B'Elanna and I had discussed. I believe that, with the right materials, we can achieve a durable and technologically sophisticated shuttle," Tom said confidently. His face glowed at the thought of creating yet another Flyer, this one better than the first.

Captain Janeway rose from her chair at the head of the table to more closely inspect the diagrams Tom had brought up on the briefing room's console. Her expression revealed none of her feelings as she examined the details of Tom's proposed project.

"May I remind the Captain that the first Delta Flyer performed above and beyond its estimated parameters? It would be logical to assume that a second craft of the same type, also designed by Mr. Paris and with Ms. Torres' expertise in engineering, would perform equally well," Tuvok commented.

B'Elanna threw him a grateful look, which the Vulcan answered with a slight nod. She hadn't told anyone how important this project was to her, as it would be her first opportunity to see Tom on a regular basis in the weeks since their reconciliation thanks to the heavy load of repairs from their last run-in with yet another hostile Delta Quadrant species. She was glad, for once, that Tuvok had added his logical reasoning to the discussion.

Tuvok's statements had certainly had their usual effect on Janeway. She looked thoughtful and more receptive to the idea. After another minute of studying the specs for the proposed _Delta Flyer II_ , she nodded.

"All right, Tom. You and B'Elanna can start building as soon as she assigns Engineering an acting chief engineer in her absence. To tell you all the truth, I'm relieved that you suggested this. The _Delta Flyer_ was extremely useful to us in its time," she said with a small smile.

Tom and B'Elanna looked at each other and exchanged triumphant smiles. B'Elanna nodded at Janeway. "I'll brief Lt. Carey on his duties right away," she said enthusiastically. 

"Very well. Is there any other business which we need to review?" Janeway asked. When no one replied she said, "Fine. Dismissed."

B'Elanna practically jumped up from her chair and walked quickly out the door. She waited impatiently for the turbolift to reach Deck 11, and when the doors finally swished open she began to step out eagerly. Then she slowed down with an almost visible halt, realizing that she would probably look pretty silly running through the deck to Engineering, not to mention that it might alarm some of the off-duty crewmembers who might see her.

Lt. Carey was handing out assignments to the engineers who had just begun their shift when B'Elanna entered Engineering. She waited for him to finish before clearing her throat to gain his attention and motioning him over when she caught his eye.

"Lieutenant?" Carey asked, standing before his Chief almost at attention. Although they had become more comfortable with each other, they were each still aware of their positions when they were in Engineering.

"I'm going to be helping Tom build the new _Delta Flyer_ , Joe, and I'm appointing you as acting Chief Engineer while I'm away.  It shouldn't take us more than a week--we're not as rushed as last time, but we don't want this project to take an unreasonable amount of time or the Captain might not approve something like this again,” B’Elanna said with a grin that Carey returned. “Now, I'll come and take over in any emergency, but beyond that Engineering is yours.” She smiled at the light that came into Carey's eyes. 

“Aye, sir!” Carey’s enthusiasm caused heads to turn briefly, but the knowledge that the Chief was present brought everyone back to their senses. All eyes were trained on workstations as she looked around briefly, her eyebrows raised.

“All right. Have fun,” she murmured with another quick smile, her attention already turning to the challenge—and quality time with Tom—ahead. She spun on her heel and practically raced out of Engineering, a sight that she was sure surprised Carey to no end. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d run out of Engineering without an emergency urging her along. The anticipation felt fantastic, a complete rush to her system beyond anything she had allowed herself to feel in weeks.

Thankfully the corridors were empty as she barreled down them, head held high and eyes shining. She didn’t care how her impatience looked to the rest of the crew now. Once she was safely ensconced in the turbolift, it couldn’t move fast enough to get her to Deck 10. She began to glare holes in the turbolift door until finally it stopped and she was able to hurry off.

Tom was already waiting for her outside of the Shuttlebay. He smiled at her obvious good mood, his own thoughts apparent to B’Elanna. They had shared several dinners, slowly feeling their way back into their relationship, but nothing compared to being able to work together on a project that required the expertise of both of them. 

“Ready?” he asked, waving a languid hand towards the door.

“For you, Paris? Always.” She winked at him and entered the Shuttlebay, making sure to put an extra swing in her hips.

They spent the next several hours pleasantly buried in plans, completely unaware of the world around them as they tweaked their design and began replicating the necessary parts for the hull frame, the first step in construction. In fact, they weren’t even aware that they had missed two meals until the Shuttlebay doors swished open, bringing in the warm, fragrant scent of roasted meat. What kind of meat made no difference to the two as their noses twitched almost simultaneously, causing them to look up.

Harry stood just inside the door, a large tray balanced in both hands. He wore a cautious smile. “I’m done with my bridge shift, and I heard no one had seen the two of you in the Mess Hall for a while. I thought you might be hungry,” he said hesitantly.

B’Elanna watched him with just as much wariness, the smile she’d worn since Tom’s last joke just minutes prior fading. Tom seemed much happier to see the other man. He jumped up and moved to take the food from him.

“Thank goodness, Harry! I’m starving, and I’m sure B’Elanna is, too. You’re a life saver.”

B’Elanna stood up as Tom set the tray on a nearby flat storage bin. She nodded carefully. “Yeah, I am. Thanks, Harry,” was all she could force herself to say. Despite the stiffness of her tone, he relaxed slightly, as if he’d expected her to throw him out with the food following shortly after.

“Well, I’m glad to help. Ummm…it looks like you two have a good start on the new _Flyer_. Could you use another set of hands?” He shuffled his feet as he tried not to meet her eyes.

B’Elanna was about to issue a scathing denial when Tom jumped in. “Not just yet, Harry, but maybe later on in the construction phase. It’s barely enough work for two right now.”

B’Elanna hoped that Harry would get the hint, and it seemed that he did as he beat a hasty retreat. That left Tom and her alone to eat their food and get back to work, a state that she was quite happy to continue indefinitely. Who needed sleep, after all, when you had a fascinating project and a fascinating man to work on it with, infuriating as both might sometimes be?


	6. Chapter 6

B’Elanna took a step back from the gleaming hull and crossed her arms over her chest, a wide smile lighting her face. It was finished, and it was beautiful. Strong arms wrapped around her waist. She leaned back into Tom’s embrace, happy that they had successfully completed this new version of the Delta Flyer in a much more satisfactory manner than its previous incarnation.

“She’s wonderful,” B’Elanna murmured.

“Mmmm, she is.” The kiss Tom pressed to her neck revealed that his thoughts were no longer on the shuttle, which was gratifying to say the least. “We’ll have to figure out something interesting for her maiden voyage.”

B’Elanna laughed. “Shouldn’t that be the Captain’s decision?”

“Oh, I think she’ll be pleased enough at what we’ve produced that we’ll get a little say in it.” Tom’s voice held a note of mischief that had been missing for weeks. B’Elanna twisted her head around to raise an eyebrow at him.

“What have you done, Tom Paris?”

“Me? Nothing. At least, not yet. Say, I think our shift is over. Do you want to go have dinner in your quarters? My treat.”

Now B’Elanna knew something was up. Tom guarded his replicator rations carefully for special occasions—or days when Neelix’s concoctions really were entirely inedible. If he was going to treat her to dinner, he had a plan. The gleam in his eyes was all the proof she needed, but since she was in a good mood B’Elanna decided to play along.

“All right. Let’s go, flyboy.”

They walked to her quarters, hands brushing and heads close together as they discussed the types of missions Janeway might use the new Flyer for. B’Elanna did her best to guess his idea of what an appropriate first mission would be, but Tom wasn’t budging. She wanted to be irritated with him, but the mischievous glint in her eyes intrigued her too much. When he was ready to tell her, she would know.

At B’Elanna’s quarters, Tom entered the entry code and gestured gallantly for her to precede him. She laughed as she moved past, and then her eyes widened at what she saw. Flowers covered every available surface, extravagant arrangements of red, yellow, blue, and green. A glance back at Tom’s satisfied expression told her who was responsible, as if she’d had any doubts.

“What in the world?”

Tom just smiled. “We’re celebrating, right?”

B’Elanna narrowed her eyes at him. “Sure, but isn’t this a bit much?”

He captured her hand in his and lifted it to press a kiss on her knuckles. “I don’t think so.” His eyes shone with sincerity, and she couldn’t help but slightly melt over the romantic gesture.

“Hmph.”

B’Elanna paced forward, inspecting each bunch of flowers as she made her way to the couch. She sat down and raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, isn’t dinner supposed to be part of this celebration?” she asked. It was useless to grill him on just how he had managed to get the flowers in her quarters in the first place. She knew from past experience that he wouldn’t reveal his secrets easily when it came to planning these little interludes. It made returning the gesture a challenge, one that she usually enjoyed meeting.

Tom grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Coming right up!”

He strode over to the replicator and ordered, “Paris Meal Delta-3-0.”

B’Elanna raised her eyebrows. He’d already programed something for them. Interesting. She watched two plates of steak, glazed carrots, and wild rice appear on the replicator along with a bottle of wine. It looked and smelled delicious, and she rose to help him carry it over to her small table. He waved her back and balanced the two plates carefully, setting one in front of her and the other beside it. Then he returned for the bottle and retrieved the two wine glasses she stored in a cabinet beside the replicator for occasions like this.

She leaned back and watched him as he worked, enjoying the way his fingers wrapped around the stems of the glasses as he set them down gently, the brief glances he gave her as he opened the bottle and poured, the overall decadence of the meal. She had to hand it to him. Tom Paris knew how to put on a show, and it never failed to impress her even if she would make him work for the smallest smile of praise.

After a moment of consideration, she allowed the corners of her mouth to tip up in approval. “It’s lovely, Tom.”

“Glad you think so,” he replied, dropping a kiss on her lips as he sat beside her on the couch.

B’Elanna enjoyed the feel of his mouth on hers, the smooth glide and soft pressure, the mere taste of him enough to get her blood up. But they had a meal to eat, and one didn’t just waste perfectly good replicator rations in the Delta Quadrant even if a different appetite was stimulated. She had to remind herself of that as he pulled back and motioned for her to try a bite.

The food was amazing, of course, but what B’Elanna really enjoyed was the opportunity to relax in Tom’s company while they gossiped about their crewmates and talked about plans for future shore leave. They’d had a few nights like this since their reconciliation, and she cherished every one. She was so very grateful to have him back in her life.

At one point, Tom reached out and picked up his glass just as she did. He lifted his up and said, “To a job well done.”

B’Elanna clinked her glass to his and was just about to take a sip when he continued, “I think I’ve come up with the perfect first mission for the Flyer.”

Annoyance flashed through her, but B’Elanna tamped it down. After all, he had a right to be excited, and she had been pleading with him to tell her what he was planning. She didn’t usually mind bringing work into their conversations, in fact she usually enjoyed it, so there was no way for him to know that work was the farthest thing from her mind just then.

“Oh, really?” It wouldn’t take more than that to get him to spill his brilliant idea.

Tom set his glass down and turned to her. “How about a honeymoon?”

B’Elanna stopped with her glass halfway to her lips and stared at him. She put her wine carefully back down. “Excuse me?”

He met her gaze with a challenge in his eyes, but behind it she could see the vulnerability. “I came too close to losing you, B’Elanna, and it’s not like that was the first. This quadrant is crazy and not getting any better. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to spend every second I can with the most important person in my life.”

B’Elanna’s breath caught when she realized he was serious. He had just asked her to marry him!

Tom only managed to stay still for half a second before reaching for her hand. She let him twine his fingers around hers and draw her near. “So, what do you say? Are you willing to make me the happiest man in the galaxy, B’Elanna Torres?”

She let her eyes soften. “What took you so long, Paris?” she asked as she pressed her mouth to his. The fingers of his free hand tangled in her braided hair as he returned the kiss in full measure. The half-eaten meal lay forgotten as he picked her up and carried her to the bed to continue with their celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this take on Tom and B'Elanna's engagement. Up next, the wedding!


	7. Epilogue

In a nod to her heritage, the bride wore red. A simple sheath dress, maybe not much by some standards but free of the fuss she hated. She carried a small bouquet, really not much more than a few lilies surrounded by fern leaves. Again, it suited her. Her long hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her dark eyes shone with love and peace.

Her hand resting gently on Chakotay’s arm, B’Elanna walked across the mess hall, cleared of tables for the occasion, straight towards Tom and Captain Janeway standing tall on the other side of the room while Harry played the wedding march on his clarinet to one side. Although she was aware of their crewmates and friends gathered around, she had eyes only for the tall blond pilot waiting for her. He smiled at her, and she couldn’t stop the happy grin that stretched across her lips in answer.

Tom’s hand stretched out for her as she approached, and B’Elanna slipped her hand off of Chakotay’s arm to take it. He gave no indication that he was startled by the cool metal of her implants, which she was glad to see even after all this time. It reassured her that she was making the correct choice.

They turned to face the captain. She smiled at them and then out at the surrounding guests. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered today to celebrate a joining I wasn’t sure was ever going to happen. Lieutenants Paris and Torres led each other on a merry chase—now, you two, don’t deny it!—but finally they managed to catch each other.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “It is my pleasure and honor to stand before them and you today in order to join these two recalcitrant souls in marriage.”

A gentle laugh filtered through the room at her words. “It should surprise no one to hear that the happy couple has written their own vows. Shall we begin?”

Tom and B’Elanna turned back to face each other, and he took her other hand in his as well. “B’Elanna, a wise Earth author once wrote, ‘Love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.’ I vow to make your happiness my top priority for the rest of my life.”

It was short but so sweet that B’Elanna almost felt like crying at his sincerity. When Tom finished speaking, Harry reached over and handed him a plain gold band that he then slipped onto the fourth finger of B’Elanna’s left hand in ancient human tradition.

B’Elanna took a deep breath. “When we began our journey, I thought that keeping my distance from everyone would make me stronger, more able to bear whatever lay ahead. Tom, you helped me understand that having someone in your life, caring for them and loving them, only adds to your strength. I vow to love and care for you, strengthen you and cherish you, for the rest of our lives.” She placed the gold band Chakotay handed her onto Tom’s left hand, never taking her eyes off his.

A few sniffles could be heard in the short silence that followed, then Janeway cleared her throat and announced, “And now, by the powers vested in me by the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet, I pronounce you husband and wife!”

Applause surrounded the newly married couple, but their eyes were only for each other as Tom bent down and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to B’Elanna’s lips, his arms holding her steady. Hers wrapped around his neck, the bouquet forgotten in the rush of emotion flowing through her. She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus this story ends, but their story will continue on. 
> 
> The quote is from Robert Heinlen. I thought it was appropriate.


End file.
